


angry lesbian with a loaded gun

by haemophilus



Series: [secondary characters] [2]
Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Character Study, F/F, F/M, Family History, Ficlet Collection, Lesbian Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-08 06:18:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10380336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haemophilus/pseuds/haemophilus
Summary: In which Mrs. Mac gets a name and a history.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I sort of started writing this in the middle of it and then I was like 'well, this is either a potential collection of short fics or a novel that I will never write.' And then I was like, well, this is a character study about an old butch lesbian who is a minor character on a comedy show about dudes. So basically my assumption is that. . .people aren't going to read a novel about this anyway and I might as well post this to my shitpost account, update in short updates, and pray for sporadic hits based on a novelty factor.
> 
> If enough people like my sporadic fic updates, I may be willing to change my mind on the effort I put towards this project.
> 
> Anyway content warning for sexual situations.
> 
> Title from 'I Love You' by AJJ.

Luther smells like cigarettes and wears clothes from Goodwill. He slicks his hair back too tight, and his eyes are always open, like he was born with a knife in his hand. Rumor has it that he’s sold hard drugs since the seventh grade. The wad of cash he carries around at all times doesn’t speak otherwise. He doesn’t flirt with anyone, and doesn’t make friends. Luther is practical and his inner circle is made up of people who are useful to him.

Jay has always been a practical person. It’s nice to meet a kindred spirit.

They meet every day in the school parking lot, cutting the co-ed health class that they’re both failing. Jay learns more about her body when she’s with Luther anyway – how much liquor it takes for her to black out in algebra, how to put on a condom, how to hold in a hit of a joint just long enough that it fills her lungs rather than making her hack up smoke. Luther drives a used 1956 Ford sedan on its last leg; Jay lost her virginity in the backseat.

Sex is disgusting, all fluids and grunting, but Luther is tender when it’s over in a way he rarely is at any other time. He lies on her chest, and holds her wrists in an approximation of holding her hand. It’s an act of almost-intimacy. His palms are calloused and dry; they are scratchy against her skin. Jay’s palms are calloused too from her long hours after school in her dad’s autobody shop. There’s something terrifying in the idea of their rough hands meeting, an uncomfortable honesty about feelings she doesn’t have a name for. Somehow, Luther understands without asking.


	2. Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably melodramatic or whatever but who cares, young butch lesbians are the entire world and somehow nobody writes lesbians in this fandom so. Wordy emotions about being gay it is. What can I say, I'm a Tired Lesbian doing my best.
> 
> I hope you like it. Content warning for smoking at a young age. And maybe some lite dysphoria?

Jay McDonald is christened June Campbell on July 1, 1950. June is a family name – her father’s mother’s – but the irony of her birthday never escapes their family. She rolls the word awkwardly around in her mouth well past the age of two. Her own name ties her tongue in knots: Junn, Joo, Jon. Still, her parents press her to pronounce it correctly. June. June. June. On her third birthday, she gets it right for the first time.

By the age of eleven, June has, of course, forgotten these early language struggles. However, this has been replaced by a more insubstantial discomfort. There’s a certain fundamental _wrongness_ to June beyond its incongruous date, a dull, constant ache in her abdomen when people use her name. She writes it in notebooks in print and cursive over and over again, trying to see herself in each of the four letters. It doesn’t work.

“I’ve decided I want to be called Jay now,” she says one day to her dad. The two of them are neck deep in replacing the bumper on a 1957 Cadillac. It’s roasting in the shop and she’s coated in a thin layer of dust. Her dad grunts absentmindedly; a cigarette tilts precariously out of his mouth as he inspects their work. She presses on.

“June doesn’t make any sense as a name for someone born in July.”

Her father grunts again.

“I think it’s break time,” he says in his gruff voice. “Want a cig, Jay?”

He takes the packet of cigarettes out of his pocket, and holds it out to her before she says yes. Jay takes out a cigarette and rolls it around in her fingers. She’s only smoked a few times before; her dad only offers a cig when he wants to show approval, and he doesn’t show approval very often. Jay looks over to the unfinished Cadillac, and back to her father – this isn’t about the car.

“Thanks, Dad,” she says.

He grunts and hands her a lighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno if anyone's weird interests overlap with mine but Mrs. Mac reminds me of that song from Fun Home called 'Ring of Keys.' Anyone? Bueller?


End file.
